


Scream {Z.M}

by ingeniousstyles



Category: Ariana Grande - Fandom, One Direction, zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Romance, young adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingeniousstyles/pseuds/ingeniousstyles
Summary: Two short tempered, very stubborn people falling in love sounds like a disaster... But they make it work, despite all the screaming matches - they love each other; flaws and all.(POSTING ON WATTPAD AS WELL — user is ingeniousstyles over there too)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my work, I currently am posting this on Wattpad too. I’m still learning how this site works, keep that in mind... Ha! Enjoy!xx

**PROLOGUE**

 

"You know what.. I hate how you do that!" He yelled, slamming his hand on the counter between them. She didn't even flinch. "You butt in and don't even let me speak, I'm trying to defend myself yet you don't even give me a chance then you complain because I'm not defending myself when I've tried, you're just too deaf to notice."

"Oh please continue, do enlighten me on all of my traits that you hate. Show me how much you hate me," she seethed.

"Every time you finish a chapter of a book you fold the damn corner, even though I always buy you bookmarks you still do it, I hate that," he began, listing off the traits within her that ticked him off. "When you drink from a bottle of water, you crush it as you drink it — I fucking hate that too. You eat pizza and leave the crusts at the side. You wear socks to bed. You're loud in bed. You wriggle so much whilst you sleep, I swear you've kicked me in the balls more times than I can count on both hands. Oh god don't even get me started on the fact you have a fan on every single night, even if it's freezing outside!"

She laughs bitterly, staring at him with tears in her eyes and a pained broken smile on her face. She asked for it, yet she didn't want to know what he hated about her. She didn't mean it, but now she couldn't help but feel hurt and broken inside at how annoyed he seemed by the things she can't control. They're things she does, her habits — they're apart of who she is. "Do you even like me? If you can hate such mediocre things about me, what could you possibly like about me that outweighs all that shit." 

He stepped around the counter, as he got closer her petite hands shoved him away, instead of backing up his hands wrapped around her wrists and pulled on them carefully so she was closer to him.

"I like your laugh, especially when something really funny happens and you try to hold it in but it just comes out anyway. You snort and your cheeks go red, you hate it and I know you do but fuck, I love it. Whenever we go to the cinema you always do something or say something or comment along quietly to the movie and it makes me smile. I love your eyes, their the same as mine yet so much lighter they always remind me of a little puppy with gorgeous brown eyes. I love the way you reach for my hand whilst you sleep. How you play scrabble and try to use words like fuck or flop or tits instead of decent words," he laughed. "The way you sneeze, how one of your legs always kicks up a little when you do so. When you get the hiccups and start saying 'pineapple' or try drinking upside down. When you cry, you always reach for me even when I'm the one that made you cry."

And with those final words she did just that, reach for him as she cried into his t-shirt.

"You might do things that I hate or irritate me to the point where I call you annoying or I yell at you... but I don't mean to do that because I love you, there will always be more things I love and admire about you than things that I hate."

____


	2. Tired Eyes

The constant buzzing for the door made my eyes roll, whoever needed up so urgently obviously couldn't contact somebody else to let them into the apartment building. I grabbed my dressing gown, it was white and fluffy and it felt like I was being wrapped up in a cloud. 

I hurriedly made my way through my one bedroom apartment, stumbling over my boots from last night before grabbing the side of the wall and pressing my index finger on the button. "What could possibly be so important at eight in the morning on a Sunday?" 

"I have a delivery for Miss Daniels," a voice said through the speaker. He sounded agitated, probably because he has shit to do and it took me five minutes to even get out of the bed to answer the door. I pressed the green button which allowed him entrance into the building. 

The belt hanging loosely on my dressing gown tightened around my waist before I opened the door, I couldn't exactly show off my bra or underwear to some strange man. That would be embarrassing. The elevator dinged, and the blonde haired man came up to me holding a large brown box and a clipboard for me to sign my name onto. 

"Oof," I huffed as I felt the full weight of the box in my arms, it's contents proving to be more than just the fluffy throw I ordered off Amazon three days ago. This definitely was not a blanket. "Thanks," I muttered bitterly, kicking the door shut in his face and putting the box on the ground. 

I stared at it, almost like it would just open up for me and expose its insides to me. I peeled the brown tape and peeked inside, I frowned. This is definitely not for me. 

On the top of the box it didn't have my name, it just said 'Apartment 34' which the delivery man would've just seen my name followed by the number on the buzzer box outside the building. The contents in the box was items such as a deck for a skateboard, wheels, spray cans, blank canvases, and a white mask people wear when they spray paint... It wasn't packed like it came from an online shop it was more just tossed in like it came from somebody else. 

I closed the top of the box and pushed it out the way as I headed for my room, something tells me I'm going to need to go up to the next floor to Apartment 43 and ask if this belongs to them instead. Obviously the receiver of the package never reminded the sender of the exact number for their apartment, otherwise I'd still be sleeping right now instead of getting dressed. 

I didn't care too much about my appearance, even though I should have because I probably look horrific, but I knew once I returned back to my apartment I'd end up in bed and sleeping once more. I pulled my black leggings on followed by a thick brown knitted jumper, boy I look rough. My hair was in the messiest of messes, knotted and tangled into what was supposed to be a bun. To be honest, I didn't even have the motivation to fix it in the slightest. 

I exited my bedroom and headed back to my living room, I grabbed my ankle boots that were sitting in the middle of the hallway. I chucked them off last night when I entered at about two in the morning from a wild night out. I slipped my dainty feet into the black boots, zipping up the side. 

Thank god for an elevator at this moment in time, I can't possibly imagine me being capable of carrying this box all the way up stairs. It may be like fifteen steps between my floor and apartment 43's floor, but regardless. Carrying a box this bulky when you have very little upper body strength, that's a recipe for disaster. 

I opened my door first before bending over to pick up the box. It wasn't so much the weight that caused an issue, it was the rattling noise from inside the box from all the items clattering together. I cringed, I can just imagine the people inside their flats being awoken by such noise. I left my door open so I could quickly dart back and shut it before the elevator arrived, which is what I did. 

Once the elevator doors open I simply pushed the box inside with the bottom of my foot. Quickly slipping myself in before the doors could shut. I hit floor four. There was ten flats per floor, it seems like a lot but the flats weren't that big inside at all. 

I didn't even know who lived in this flat, let alone this floor. To be honest, I don't even communicate with the flats on my floor, not even the two on either side of my flat. I just hope that whoever is in apartment 43 doesn't turn me away claiming this doesn't belong to them either, I don't need to lug this back down and have it taking up space in my already small and cluttered apartment. 

The small ding chimed through the elevator and the bulky silver doors slowly slid open, I quickly pushed the box back out again. It almost tipped as I did so. Once out on the floor and the doors to the elevator were now closed, I slipped my arms around the box pressing it tightly against my chest. With a heavy sigh I walked down the quiet corridor, the clattering noise once again bouncing off the walls and making my face scrunch up as I cringed. It should just be wrong for any loud noise to shatter silence. 

Forty-one, forty-two... And forty-three. I placed the box on the ground, staring at the door. It looked exactly like mine except from the number, I noticed the small peep hole was black making me think whoever was inside had covered it with something dark. The things people do for that little extra slice of privacy. 

I tapped my knuckles on the door, it was quiet but still loud enough that surely the person inside could hear my presence. I didn't want to pound my fist on the door to catch their attention, I'd have woken everyone else up. 

Two minutes of silence passed, no noise from behind the door and no noise from out here in the corridor. So I tried again, this time I used a little more force in my knock. Suddenly there was a thud, it was heavy and I feared whatever it was not only woke up the apartment beneath theirs but also everyone on this damn floor. 

I heard a grunt and heavy footsteps that made their way closer to the door, still concealing me. I panicked suddenly for some reason, grabbing the box off the floor and carrying it against my hip, like a very heavy child. 

The chain on the door rattled and then a key turned before the door opened revealing a man. Olive toned skin, thick black hair, hair along his jawline that at first made me want to cringe thinking it was messy and didn't suit his face, but with a harder glance I kind of liked it. It made him look softer. His eyes were brown, a very light brown colour — kind of like mine. They also looked heavy and tired, I definitely woke him up... Was that thud him? Did my knock frighten him awake and make him roll off the bed? 

"Can I help you?" He asked groggily. He removed his left hand from the door and rubbed the heal of his palm into his eye, a yawn bursting from his lips. He stood between the door frame and the door, giving my prying eyes no chance to peek inside and look at what little I could of his apartment. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt that looked awfully baggy on him and black joggers with the Adidas logo printed on the left pocket. 

"I think this is supposed to be for you. It got delivered to me this morning," I explained, looking at the box and then back to Mr Tired Eyes. 

He stared at me blankly, slowly getting on his tip toes to have a better view of the shipping label stuck on the top of the box. I could barely read the words scrawled over it, the handwriting was so messy. His feet were covered in thick black socks that seemed to have slipped off slightly, but it didn't seem to bother him that the material wasn't snuggly fit to his feet. 

"No it's not, I'm apartment 43, not 34," he replied coolly. His voice was deep and filled with rasp and sleep.

"Yeah I'm apartment 34, but I think whoever sent it must've gotten the numbers the wrong way. I definitely don't skateboard or spray paint anything," I stated. I felt irritated. I get he's tired, but so am I. 

"Oh crap! Sorry my mum must've wrote that wrong," he said suddenly, a memory resurfacing. Obviously his mother boxed all this up to send to her son. He pushed the door open fully, and held his arms out for the box. I respected him for not ripping it from my arms. Carefully I pushed my chest forward to budge the box over my now open arms so it would slowly slip right into his arms. "Thank you. And I'm sorry about the mishap." 

"Just make sure your mum doesn't mess up again, if that was money I wouldn't be up here handing it to you," I joked. He laughed quietly, the noise rippled through my body. "Well I'll be off now, sorry for waking you up." 

"It's okay. Goodbye." 

"Bye," I breathed. 

I headed back for my apartment, the entire way there my surroundings just felt too quiet. I missed that clattering box suddenly. 

Once in my flat I locked the door and kicked my boots off again, sliding them towards the door so I wouldn't trip over them again. I reached my bedroom, stripping back down to my matching underwear and crawling into the softness of my bed. As I drifted back into my dreams, I couldn't stop picturing a tall man with tired eyes and messy black hair...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love tired Zayn.. I hope you liked this little beginning!! See you next time, remember to leave a comment :)


End file.
